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793 reviews
The narrative follows Lucy and Sam, two orphaned siblings navigating a harsh and unforgiving landscape in search of a place to call home after the death of their father. Zhang's prose is as raw and unyielding as the wilderness through which Lucy and Sam traverse, echoing the emotional terrain they must navigate.
One of the most striking aspects of Zhang's storytelling is her portrayal of the immigrant experience and the toll it takes on individuals and families. Through Lucy and Sam's journey, she skillfully unpacks the complexities of identity, the struggle for survival, and the sacrifices made in the pursuit of a better life.
Zhang's exploration of masculinity, particularly through the lens of immigrant and marginalized communities, is both nuanced and revelatory. She challenges traditional notions of masculinity, exposing its often violent manifestations while also highlighting its capacity for tenderness and resilience.
The novel's thematic breadth is vast, touching upon issues of environmental justice, colonialism, and the legacy of exploitation that continues to haunt the American landscape. Zhang's prose is imbued with a deep reverence for the land and its mysteries, underscoring the interconnectedness of nature and humanity.
This book is not merely a story; it is a meditation on memory, belonging, and the enduring bonds of family. Zhang's narrative unfolds with the grace of a myth, weaving together Chinese symbolism and reimagined history to create a haunting and unforgettable tale.
How Much of These Hills Is Gold is a masterpiece that lingers in the mind long after the final page is turned. It is a work of profound beauty and depth, offering readers a glimpse into characters grappling with the weight of their pasts and the promise of an uncertain future. This is another must-read recommendation for my diverse lit-fic lovers and anyone seeking a poignant exploration of the immigrant experience in America.
📖 Recommend For: Advocates of Environmental Justice, Explorers of Intersectional Identity, Critics of Capitalist Exploitation, Fans of Brit Bennett’s The Vanishing Half and Khaled Hosseini’s The Kite Runner.
🔑 Key Themes: Intergenerational Trauma, Immigrant Experience, Gender Identity Exploration, Cultural Displacement, Family Bonds, Environmental Exploitation, Colonial Legacy, the Myth of the American Dream.
Graphic: Death of parent
Moderate: Alcoholism, Child abuse, Gore, Racism
Minor: Animal cruelty, Bullying, Child death, Violence, Murder, Sexual harassment
Thank you to Casey and Nina for the eARC!
In her groundbreaking debut, "Feel It All," Casey Tanner presents a revolutionary framework for redefining our relationships with sex, dismantling societal norms, and embracing a holistic approach to sexual wellness. Drawing upon their extensive experience as a certified sex therapist and her personal journey of overcoming the shackles of purity culture and systemic queerphobia, Tanner delivers a compassionate and empowering guide that transcends traditional narratives surrounding sexuality.
Right from the outset, Tanner sets the stage for a deeply introspective exploration, weaving together trauma-informed insights, intersectional feminism, and mindfulness practices to navigate the labyrinthine complexities of intimacy. Embracing themes of decolonialism and trauma-informed care, Tanner beckons readers to embark on a voyage of self-discovery, urging them to cast aside the weight of shame and misconceptions that have long obscured their ability to embrace authentic and fulfilling intimacy.
Central to Tanner's approach is the notion of secure sexuality—an attachment-based framework that challenges conventional notions of "good sex,” inviting readers to reclaim agency over their bodies and desires. Through a fiercely decolonial and queer-centric lens, Tanner celebrates the kaleidoscopic diversity of human expression while advocating fervently for reproductive justice and the unassailable right to bodily autonomy.
One of the book's most compelling aspects is Tanner's emphasis on collective care and empowerment. Rejecting the individualistic models of healing that pervade wellness culture, Tanner advocates for community-centered strategies that foster solidarity and mutual support. In doing so, she confronts the pervasive myths of purity culture, heteronormativity, and the gender binary, offering readers a guiding constellation amidst the vast expanse of desire, attraction, and relationship dynamics.
"Feel It All" is a testament to Tanner's unwavering commitment to anti-oppressive therapeutic practice and survivor-centered care. By unpacking the intersections of trauma, mental health diagnoses, and queerness, Tanner illuminates how systemic injustices inexorably shape our experiences of sexuality and intimacy. Through candid disclosures of their own journey as a survivor, Tanner forges a sanctuary of validation and safety for readers navigating their own paths of trauma and healing.
At the heart of Tanner's work lies a profound understanding of the somatic and neurobiological dimensions of sexual trauma. By exploring the intricate interplay between the autonomic nervous system and the brain, Tanner sheds light on how trauma manifests in the body, disrupting our capacity for intimacy. Through practical exercises and mindfulness techniques, she offers readers a path toward healing and resilience, emphasizing the importance of expanding one's window of tolerance and cultivating self-compassion.
In addition to its rich theoretical insights, "Feel It All" is replete with tangible suggestions, resources, and strategies for building more inclusive and affirming communities. Whether navigating sex accommodations for individuals with disabilities or dismantling the hegemony of the wellness industrial complex, Tanner emboldens readers to interrogate the social structures that perpetuate harm, while kindling the flames of alternative futures rooted in equity and liberation.
In "Feel It All," Casey Tanner offers more than just a book—it is a beacon of hope and possibility in a world shaped by stigma and shame. With its compassionate tone, rigorous analysis, and actionable insights, Tanner's work transcends the boundaries of traditional therapy literature, inviting readers to reimagine their relationships with sex and embark on a sacred odyssey of self-discovery and liberation. "Feel It All" is not just a guidebook; it is a manifesto for 21st-century sexual liberation—a testament to the transformative power of community, resilience, and radical love.
📖 Recommended For: LGBTQIA+ Advocates, Trauma Survivors, Mindfulness Practitioners, Intersectional Feminists, Sexuality Educators, Fans of Sonya Renee Taylor's "The Body is Not An Apology,” bell hooks's "All About Love,” and Sherronda J. Brown’s “Refusing Compulsory Sexuality.”
🔑 Key Themes: Decolonialism, Trauma-Informed Care, Collective Healing, Mindfulness and Somatic Healing, Intersectionality, Anti-Oppression, Queer-Centrism.
Moderate: Suicidal thoughts, Forced institutionalization
Minor: Eating disorder, Sexual harassment
Through the lens of protagonist Mackenzie's experiences, Johns deftly navigates themes of PTSD, chronic stress, and dissociation. Mackenzie's struggles with these issues are portrayed with raw honesty, offering readers a poignant glimpse into the psychological toll of intergenerational trauma. The author's prose is both powerful and evocative, capturing the depth of emotion with striking clarity.
Johns seamlessly integrates elements of magical realism into the narrative, adding a layer of depth and complexity to the storytelling. Dreams and ancestral wisdom play a central role in Mackenzie's journey, serving as a source of both solace and revelation. The novel's exploration of these themes is both thought-provoking and deeply resonant, inviting readers to reflect on their own relationships with grief and healing.
The solidarity and support between characters serve as a powerful testament to the strength of love and community. Johns skillfully portrays the ways in which honesty and vulnerability can foster connection, even in the face of profound adversity.
Overall, "Bad Cree" is a beautifully written exploration of Indigenous identity, trauma, and resilience. Jessica Johns' masterful storytelling and poignant prose make this novel a must-read for anyone seeking a deeply moving and thought-provoking literary experience.
📖 Recommended For: Advocates of Indigenous Rights, Critics of Intergenerational Trauma and Colonialism, Fans of Leslie Marmon Silko's "Ceremony."
🔑 Key Themes: Indigenous Identity, Intergenerational Trauma, Healing and Resilience, Cultural Reclamation, Environmental Justice, Solidarity and Community Support, Oral Tradition and Storytelling.
"Anyone's Ghost" by August Thompson presents a narrative that attempts to delve into the intricacies of love, friendship, and masculinity, but falls short of truly resonating with me. While the novel explores some compelling themes, its execution leaves much to be desired.
From the outset, I found the prose to be overly embellished, as if striving for a level of creativity that ultimately feels forced rather than genuine. While there are moments of brilliance scattered throughout, they are few and far between, overshadowed by passages that feel contrived and prototypically male in their approach. The line about “It seems I was determined to break my own heart over nut” was just never going to land with me.
Moreover, the representation of queerness in the novel feels disappointingly one-dimensional. Instead of offering a nuanced exploration of the queer experience, the narrative reduces queerness to sexual behavior, experiences with homophobia, and self-destructive tendencies. As someone who has grappled with queer trauma in my own life, I'm weary of narratives that sensationalize and romanticize these experiences. The world feeds me enough of my own queer trauma, I don’t need to be served up the queer trauma porn soup in books as well.
The pacing of the novel also leaves much to be desired. The slow-burn exposition of the first 30% of the book feels interminable, making it difficult to remain engaged with the story. Even when the narrative does pick up pace, the impact feels muted by the meandering nature of the preceding chapters. Furthermore, the second car crash, a potentially pivotal moment in the story, is glossed over with only a few sentences, leaving little room for exploration or emotional resonance. By the time the novel reaches its climax, with Jake's death occurring a mere 20 pages from the end, there is a distinct sense of missed opportunities and unfulfilled potential.
I also found it challenging to connect with the characters on a meaningful level. Theron, the protagonist, is portrayed in a way that feels overly familiar, his insecurities and struggles with masculinity bordering on cliché. And while I wanted to empathize with Jake's struggles, his character ultimately falls flat, his behavior veering towards unsympathetic and abusive.
Despite these shortcomings, there are moments of insight to be found in "Anyone's Ghost." Thompson's critique of toxic masculinity is particularly noteworthy, as he highlights the damaging effects of societal expectations on young men like Theron. However, the novel's reliance on women and femininity as a cure for toxic masculinity feels reductive and unoriginal, failing to offer any meaningful solutions to the complex issues at hand.
In conclusion, "Anyone's Ghost" is a novel that promises much but ultimately fails to deliver. While it touches on important themes and offers moments of lyrical beauty, its flaws ultimately outweigh its strengths. August Thompson may be a promising new voice in contemporary literature, but this debut work leaves much room for improvement. This book may resonate more with cisgender queer men who have personal experience with the struggles of toxic masculinity and its intersection with queerphobia and heteronormativity. With where I am at in my life with my bisexuality, my gender identity, and my community building, this one simply did not hit for me.
Graphic: Drug abuse, Drug use, Homophobia, Suicidal thoughts, Suicide, Suicide attempt, Alcohol
Moderate: Emotional abuse
Minor: Biphobia, Child abuse
In a world often fixated on romantic entanglements, Lilly Dancyger's "First Love: Essays on Friendship" offers a refreshing and poignant exploration of the profound bonds between women. Drawing from her own experiences and anchored by the tragic murder of her cousin Sabina, Dancyger delves into the intricate tapestry of female friendships with a depth and nuance that ultimately feels like a warm embrace from an old friend.
From the very outset, it's evident that Dancyger's intention with this book goes beyond mere storytelling; it's an invitation to delve into the essence of friendship, to explore its nuances, its challenges, and its enduring beauty. At its core, "First Love" challenges heteronormative relationship hierarchies, celebrating the richness and complexity of intimacy wherever it may be found. Dancyger's refusal to confine love to romantic partnerships is both liberating and affirming, offering a narrative that embraces the multifaceted nature of human connection.
What sets this collection apart is Dancyger's unapologetic embrace of vulnerability and her willingness to navigate the complexities of grief, desire, and identity. Through her evocative prose, she invites readers into the intimate spaces she shares with her closest friends, allowing them to witness the bonds that have shaped her life in profound ways. These essays, grounded in Dancyger’s own friendships, explore themes of fluid sexuality, mothering, chosen family, and the evolving dynamics of adolescent relationships.
The essays are interwoven with references to literature and pop culture, from Anaïs Nin to Tumblr "sad girls," creating a rich tapestry of influences that speak to the universality of the human experience. Dancyger's writing is both introspective and incisive, offering a kaleidoscopic view of life through the lens of friendship. She doesn't shy away from the messiness of human connection, acknowledging the inevitable conflicts and misunderstandings that arise, even among the closest of friends. Yet, amidst the challenges, there is a prevailing sense of resilience and grace—a recognition of the profound impact that these relationships have on shaping who we are and who we aspire to be.
One of the most compelling aspects of "First Love" is Dancyger's insistence on the importance of community care and solidarity. Throughout the collection, she explores the ways in which women create space for each other in a world that often seeks to diminish their voices. Her themes of anti-oppression, anti-appropriation, and anti-white supremacy are both timely and necessary, offering a rallying cry for collective action.
In her upcoming collection, Dancyger masterfully navigates the intricate terrain of societal narratives, including her poignant critiques and steadfast denial of the true-crime industrial complex. With keen prose, Dancyger unveils the harmful consequences of sensationalized crime narratives, refusing to succumb to the voyeuristic allure they often propagate. Through her exploration, she sheds light on the ways in which these narratives exploit tragedy for entertainment, perpetuating harmful stereotypes and distorting the complexities of human experience. By steadfastly resisting the allure of sensationalism, Dancyger underscores the importance of approaching storytelling with empathy, nuance, and a commitment to truth. In doing so, she challenges readers to confront their complicity in perpetuating harmful narratives, urging us to demand a more compassionate and authentic approach to storytelling in our society.
"First Love" is a testament to the enduring power of friendship and the ways in which it sustains us through life's most challenging moments. It is a book that celebrates the beauty of feminine relationships in all their complexity, offering a timely reminder that love, in all its forms, is always worth the risk. This collection is a radiant and deeply moving exploration of the bonds that unite us. It is a book that refuses to be confined by conventional definitions of love, instead embracing the full spectrum of human connection. To read it is to be reminded of the profound impact that friendship can have on our lives, and the importance of cherishing those connections, however fleeting they may be.
Recommended For: Queer Millennial Women and Femmes, Mommy Issues Readers, Advocates for Community Care, Intersectional Feminism Fans
Key Themes: Feminine Solidarity, Fluid Sexuality and Identity, Grief and Loss, Chosen Family and Alternative Forms of Care, True Crime Critiques
My Favorite Quotes:
My mother never quite found solid ground, attempting to outrun her demons with frequent short-notice cross-country moves, and to drown them in heroin. She protected me better than her own mother had protected her, but still, I inherited chaos like a family heirloom.
To love someone, I have always understood, is to keep them safe.
With romantic love, there’s usually the expectation that you get one at a time. But sisterly love allows for multiplicity, overlapping and interlocking - the first love, the one that set the bar, continuing alongside all the other loves that follow.
We snarled and bristled, puffed ourselves up and bared our teeth - but only to protect the softness we’d made for each other, where no one else had.
But the self is a tenacious thing. It will allow itself to be submerged, for a time, but there in the murky waters of love, or grief, or addiction, or fear, or whatever you try to drown it in - it waits. It waits for its moment, for the first crack in the surface, and then it struggles forth.
I felt the claustrophobia of being loved so fiercely for exactly who you are that to change is a betrayal.
On top of this strained transition, Heather had recently been diagnosed with bipolar disorder. The diagnosis reoriented what her sadness meant in the world; made it something to be not just expressed but managed, tended to vigilantly with the help of professionals. It brought into stark relief the difference between being a sad and angry teenager, as we all had been, and being actually, clinically depressed. It had been hard to tell the difference when we were sixteen, singing sad songs and drinking too much sugary liqueur, crying over each other’s sad poems and worshipping at the altars of our sad girl saints. But not the difference was clear: Heather’s was a bigger, scarier sadness. It was a current she had to fight constantly, or surrender to and be swallowed forever.
Grief is a place you can’t travel to without being transformed. You eat the seeds and then you become the queen of a land you never even wanted to visit.
I spent years preparing myself to write a crime story, waiting for the desire to know more about Sabina’s murder to bubble up in me. I expected it, but it hasn’t arrived. When I finally sat down to write about Sabina, the story that came out was not about murder at all. It was a love story.
Graphic: Murder
Moderate: Drug use, Suicide, Death of parent, Alcohol
Minor: Drug abuse, Sexual assault
- “Wealth diffused stress the way umbrellas shed rain, showering it on the people beneath them, whose job it was to support the canopy at all costs, at any cost, for life.”
- “The truth was like everything else and could be manufactured, bought, and traded. All facts belonged to the ice-drinking class; everyone else picked up their scraps and recycled their quotes until speculation became certainty. Every word the ice-drinkers uttered was currency unto itself.”
- “They could film police brutality all they wanted. Didn’t change a thing. This is America! Ask not!”
- “Humanity was always the first thing to go, under fascism. The voice of her grandmother humming in the kitchen. Then, beauty.”
- “Celine knew how girls could be; she’d been a girl herself, once, believing she had powers that excused her from the laws of gravity, the state, and her body itself—its aging and frailty, its agonizing dependence on other people’s tenderness. She used to be young, but now she was wise. She felt it was an even-handed trade. She would not go back, even if she could.”
- “In another era, he thought, truth was an unmalleable thing. Humans gave up their lives to protect it. And now, here was the species, with more sensors, spyware, and synthesis capabilities than ever, knowing less than before. They had no idea what was worth defending.”
- “Paul had said that the only thing limiting the rich was a lack of imagination and that the rest of us were lucky because they were so very stupid—but Celine knew from experience that ignorance was temporary, and all it needed was a spark of energy, whether it be rage, desire, grief, or greed, to power its engines and send it down the runway, picking up speed as it went, and leaving Celine and her mother trailing behind it with their bags flapping against their shins, hands raised to the departing craft as if to beg for another chance—a better chance—to do it right this time, even perfect, now that we knew what was really expected of us.”
Graphic: Sexual assault
Moderate: Drug use, Gore, Torture
Minor: Self harm, Suicidal thoughts, Suicide, Cannibalism, Sexual harassment, Classism
Key Themes: Queer liberation, religious reinterpretation, erotic apocrypha, intersectional solidarity, queer self-love and empowerment
Recommended for: Queer Revolutionaires, Feminist Trailblazers, Seekers of Truth
Moderate: Homophobia, Sexual harassment
Graphic: Child abuse, Violence, Death of parent, War
Moderate: Addiction
Minor: Abandonment